One Step
by JaimeHP
Summary: A stolen moment between Ron and Hermione. An outtake taking place in the last chapter of HBP.


One Step

In the same way that children see adults as these impenetrable walls of strength, Ron thought that Hermione could bounce back from anything. But this, this was different. They had all lost something so big, _ too big _ to even wrap their hearts and minds around.

He watched her sitting there, beside his sister, trying to hold herself together while she watched the funeral proceedings. Harry had looked away, for the same reason, no doubt, as he did, holding back the tears that burned and ached behind his eyes. They had all been through so much together, but somehow it seemed they would have to deal with their grief on this one alone.

Harry pulled Ginny away for a moment to speak with her, both of them somehow appearing to be completely calm and composed. Ron had a feeling he knew what was coming. Harry was shouldering a burden that Ron knew he couldn't possibly imagine, and he knew that because of it, Harry would have to sacrifice his own present happiness.

He felt sorry for Harry and Ginny. He had seen how happy they had made each other, how complete. He thought that Harry had perhaps been happier in the past few weeks being with Ginny than he had been in the six years they had known each other.

But Ron envied him, too. At least they had had that happiness, that momentary fulfillment. Ron longed to know what it was like to have a truly mutual relationship, not like what he had with Lavender; a relationship simply for the sake of having one.

No, he wanted to be with someone he loved…

When he unconsciously turned his head in her direction, Hermione suddenly appeared completely alone, and Ron felt completely helpless. She looked up at him for a moment, silently asking for something. Ron never understood girls, Hermione especially, but for the first time, he didn't have to think as he wrapped his arms tightly around her, pulling her against him.

She burrowed her face into his shoulder and let go of the composure she had tried so hard to maintain. He felt her back shake as she sobbed against him and felt the moisture from her tears soaking through the dress robes Fred and George had given him.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Ron," she choked. "It's just…"

" 'S alright," he whispered, running a hand along her hair. As he glanced down at her and back up at the tomb, he was assaulted by the full weight of the situation. He felt the telltale tightening in his nose and quickly squeezed his eyes shut, but it was no use. Tears streamed down his cheeks, dripping off the end of his nose.

He saw Harry stand up and look at him, turning around to walk toward the lake. Ginny stood as well.

"I'm gonna go see Mum and Bill," she said, softly. "See you in a bit." She stared at Harry for a few seconds before tearing her gaze away and heading quickly towards the castle.

Ron looked back down at Hermione, hating the way she tried to stop to catch her breath, but couldn't keep her sobs from erupting. He leaned his cheek against her head, and turned slightly smell her hair. He knew he shouldn't, and that he would regret it a minute later when they separated, but she just felt so right in his arms, and she smelled _so_ sweet; he thought she used something fruity in her hair, and he liked the smell that was unique to her. She had once explained to him during a potions lesson that it was called _Pheromones_, what attracted one person to another.

She stirred, leaning back for oxygen, exhausted from her weeping; her eyes red and swollen, her cheeks flushed. She looked beautiful and delicate in a way Ron had never seen her. She was always so strong, so resolute; it shocked him to see her as fragile as she looked at the moment. He could feel her breath on his face, and she was looking into his eyes again, the same way she had before.

"Hermione…" he whispered. Her face relaxed, and she reached up between them to wipe his cheek. He removed his hand from her hair, and stopped her, grasping her hand and moving it down to his lips where he paused for a moment before kissing her fingertips gently.

Hermione gasped, but didn't jerk away. Ron lowered her hand, and looked around at all the mourning guests guiltily. "I wish…" he trailed off at a loss for words.

"Me too," Hermione said, giving his palm a squeeze. He turned back to face her.

He knew he shouldn't say it. He knew he shouldn't do it. He knew that sitting at a funeral surrounded by ministry officials and peers and professors was the worst time possible. But he couldn't stop himself.

"I'm going to kiss you," he whispered, closing the gap between them, and pressing his lips against hers as gently and innocently as possible. Her lips were wet with tears, and as he pulled away, he heard her cough a soft sob.

"Ron," she said, "we…we can't."

"Oh, God, Hermione," he turned in his chair. "You're right. I'm sorry. That was stupid. I just—"

"No, it wasn't stupid, Ron, not at all. But I can't handle this right now. I do want…to…to kiss you, but not here. Not now. It would be selfish." She paused for a moment, as Ron studied his hands. "Look," she said. "Scrimgeour's got Harry. We should go."

Ron looked toward the lake to see a very agitated Harry talking to the Minister of Magic. He stood up, still too ashamed to face Hermione.

"Listen," she said, stepping in front of him. "Harry needs us right now. I have to go home today, but I'll get to The Burrow as soon as I can, and then we'll talk. I promise."

Ron nodded and saw that despite her sadness, Hermione's eyes were smiling. "C'mon," she said.

They headed over to Harry, and Ron knew that even with all the hardship they were facing in the future, he was still one step closer to getting what he'd wanted for years. He was one step closer to Hermione.


End file.
